‘what‘s a house? A space to live,
To project our happiness between four walls,
Then to spread out our vanity outside these walls.
Can there be space for something else?
A space for our melancholy, our scars,
Then the luggage of our memories.
It is a narrow house which leaves with its threshold,
Our thousand and one smooth and invented lives.
It is a narrow house which offers to a narrow street:
The history of a man, a woman and their passions.
History of a house imagined to live.
But also to remain.’